Foolish Games
by jugular
Summary: Songfic to Jewel's "Foolish Games." Spike reflects upon memories with Drusilla.


_You took your coat off and stood in the rain  
You were always crazy like that  
I watched from my window  
Always felt I was outside looking in on you_

She stood there, in her pale, white dress, with her face turned towards the stars. She loved the stars. They were her best friends who never seemed to abandon her. They were always communicating with his love in ways he wanted to, but never could. The rain was coming down in torrents, making her ethereal. He wanted to tell her to put on a jacket, because she might get a cold, before he remembered they didn't get colds. They were creatues of the night.

_You were always the mysterious one with dark eyes and careless hair  
You were fashionably sensitive, but too cool to care  
Then you stood in my doorway, with nothing to say  
Besides some comment on the weather _

She came into the cottage with her eyes trained on him. Her hair was slick down her back and her eyes were dark with hunger. Her dress was from another time period entirely, but she either didn't realize it or didn't care. He had tried to buy her beautiful dresses and jewels, but she would rather have organs or a live body. He loved every one of her quirks. As she stood there, with the door open and the rain driving into the cottage, she smiled and began to speak to him. Every time a word left her mouth, he felt like he was on Cloud 9.

"Lovely weather, isn't it"

"If you say so, pet."

A crack of lightning appeared behind her outside, so he ushered her inside and got her a warm cup of blood.

_Well in case you failed to notice, in case you failed to see  
This is my heart bleeding before you, this is me down on my knees  
These foolish games are tearing me apart  
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart  
You're breaking my heart_

As she sat at the kitchen table, he recalled an evening almost exactly like this, except two more people were with them. A blonde woman sat by his dark-haired beauty and they whispered things to each other about the men who were sitting across from them. The two men could hear what the women were saying, and while it made one feel better, the other felt like his heart was breaking. His woman was talking about the man next to him as if he was a god. The blonde man's heart bled for his rejected love. The woman in question was oblivious, as she usually was, and kept talking to her companion about the other man.

_You were always brilliant in morning  
Smoking your cigarettes and talking over coffee  
You philosophies on art, Baroque moved you  
You loved Mozart and you'd speak of your loved ones  
As I clumsily strummed my guitar_

He snapped out of his reverie as she took a cigarette out of the pack he had on the table. He watched, amusedly, as she lit it and breathed it in. It was an unnecessary gesture, since neither had to breathe to survive. She put out the cigarette, not liking the taste. The topic moved from Baroque to Mozart to the family she used to have, her monologue being briefly interrupted by the blood-tainted coffee she was drinking. He was half-listening to her ramble as he attempted to play the new instrument she had found for him. Even if he couldn't play, it meant the world to him because she had stolen it for him. For him. Not Angelus.

_You'd teach me of honest things  
Things that were daring, things that were clean  
Things that knew what an honest dollar did mean_

She was older than he by at least 20 years, and taught him about things he never knew. They lay in bed after their meal, just whispering sweet nothings into each others ears. She would tell him of grand adventures that she didn't remember he was there for, like the Boxer Rebellion when he had killed a Slayer. She spoke of him in the highest regard and he felt no better praise. She spoke of things the stars whispered when she was sleeping and even had a notion of using money to get something, instead of stealing it. He didn't see a point to it, since they could pilfer anything they wanted, but as long as she was talking, he was perfectly fine with it.

_So I hid my soiled hands behind my back  
Somewhere along the line I must've gone off track with you  
Excuse me, think I've mistaken you for somebody else  
Somebody who gave a damn, somebody more like myself_

After Sunnydale, things were different. He never talked about the fact that he went to the enemy for help, and she only brought it up when the pixies whispered it to her. He wondered at what point he went so out of his mind that he resorted to that. He guessed that Angelus had been the last straw, for she changed drastically after his elder came back to her. She was like a child at Christmas. He was cast to the side, replaced by her first love. It was as if she had two sides; one side loved and adored him, and the other worshipped the man who drove her out of her mind.

_These foolish games are tearing me apart  
You're tearing me, tearing me, tearing me apart  
Your thoughtless words are breaking my heart  
You're breaking my heart  
You took off your coat and stood in the rain  
You were always crazy like that_

It broke his heart knowing that he was fooling himself. She loved Angelus more than she loved him. She would whisper an 'I love you' now and then, but it wasn't heartfelt anymore. He never wanted to admit it, but she wouldn't ever love him as much as she loved the other vampire. Spike had never known a pain like that. He was looking out of the window in their little home in Brazil, watching her. It was raining again, and, as per usual, Drusilla was standing in the rain with nothing but a plain white dress. No shoes, no coat. He loved her eccentricities.


End file.
